


My Black Knight In The White Moonlight (Episode One)

by thorkiship18



Series: My Black Knight In The White Moonlight (Series) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Ballroom Dancing, Blood, Bottom Sam, Bottoming from the Top, Consensual Underage Sex, Dean In Love, Dean to the Rescue, Declarations Of Love, Emotionally Hurt Sam, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Prostitution, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, Late at Night, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Making Love, Plot Twists, Prostitute Sam, Protective Dean Winchester, Serial Killer Dean, Sexual Abuse, Surprise Ending, Top Benny, Top Dean, Underage Prostitution, Unspecified Setting, Vampire Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7549720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorkiship18/pseuds/thorkiship18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What are you?" Sam whispers. </p><p>Dean smirks, unintentionally flashing his abnormally white teeth. "I'm something less than you, yet much more." </p><p>(Or the one where Sam is a Sixteen Year Old prostitute and Dean saves the day.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Black Knight In The White Moonlight (Episode One)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This was a random idea that I had a few months ago, but I'm finally making it happen! It's a one-shot, but if it's good enough, I'll add on a few chapters for you all. It all depends on you guys. Enjoy! 
> 
> (My apologies for any spelling errors. I hate working on a phone. I need my laptop screen fixed. Gah!!)

It's cold, but not very much so. It's always cold in this part of town. Especially during the night. There's nothing but other boys like him working the corner. They aren't Benny's boys. Not yet anyways. He's an up and coming pimp, not used to being in the business. Sam used to work alone, but he was seduced by the man who promised him a grand and lavish life. It was all a lie. Benny is a dangerous man who uses every little infraction on Sam's part as an excuse to hurt him. It's alright. He deserves this. It's what he gets for running away from the only home he ever knew. But he had to leave. After his mom died, his stepfather just kept... _touching_. There's nothing for him back there. He'll never go back, no matter how warm that house once was.

This outfit that Benny made him wear is degrading. It's meant for a whore. He  _is_ a whore. A filthy, dirty whore that's only good for one thing. That's what Benny tells him all the time when he's fucking into him against the wall of his apartment. He never used to be this way. When they first met outside of that diner, he sweet talked him, flirting and talking to him casually. They didn't have sex right away when he took Sam home, which he thought was usual; he expected it. He gave him an offer. Benny told him he could stay with him on two conditions: Be his forever and work for him. At the time, Sam thought the offer couldn't be any worse than how it was with Rick, so he accepted. Immediately after doing that though, Benny took him. It was rough and brutal.

Looking back on it now, that had to be one of the stupidest mistakes that he ever made. But he was desperate for a home, a place to escape from the hellish nightmare that he came from. Rick started out as a nice guy too, but it was just deception. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing. His grin is as cunning as his attitude behind closed doors. Sam's thankful that he got away from that terrible man. The man that caused him hurt, but not as much as Benny. He's keeping him against his will. Has been for half a year now. Running isn't an option. He's been caught twice already, being punished severely for it. Sam has been starved, beaten, bruised and raped for days on end by him for his disobedience and he doesn't see it ending anytime soon.

He adjusts the short white shorts that he's made to wear. The small white t-shirt hugs his torso, exposing his stomach immensely. Benny makes him wear all white clothing when working because it makes him look "angelic" and "pure". The men that he has sex with eat that shit up. They see him as this clean, virginal being that needs to be ravaged beyond repair, yet treated like the saint that he looks like. These men are sickening, just like Benny. Sam hates him. He hates everything he stands for, but he can't say anything to him or anyone for that matter. He doesn't have anyone anymore, only his abuser. The perverts don't care about him as long as he satisfies them. Assholes.

Eventually, a blue sedan pulls up near him. The guy in the car rolls down his window, whistling for Sam to come closer. He does so, but slowly and cautiously. You can't trust people nowadays. He leans on the window, looking inside to see who he's about to fuck for the night. The man isn't anything special. He looks overworked; tired. He's slim with thick glasses on. He's what one would describe as "boyishly handsome". Even without him saying a single thing yet, Sam knows that this man hasn't done anything like this before. He's nervous, eyes looking at the boy in front of him and the surrounding area. His patience is wearing thin. He has a schedule to keep, a deadline to make. If he comes back with less money again, Benny's gonna do something bad. Something worse than last time. Finally, the pervert in the car speaks, voice shaky and unsure.

"Uh--Hi there." He mutters.

Sam nods, smiling politely. "Hi. You looking for a moment alone with me?"

"Yea--Yeah." He says very enthusiastically. "I would like that a lot. Do you...wanna hop in?"

The young prostitute doesn't say anything as he gets in to join the man. He only sighs out of dread. He hopes that there'll be a day in which he'll get out of this place and away from Benny. Sam prays for a miracle...but he knows that no one will ever answer it. He's damned. He's been tainted by the blackness that surrounds Rick and Benny's hearts. If he died today, Heaven would deny him. The demons of Hell would embrace him and most likely use him as he is about to be used. The man with the glasses--who he'll name "Goggles"--stops off into a nearby motel parking lot. The teen knows it well; he has a room here and he mentioned it. Goggles starts to fidget with his wallet, hands a little shakey. He smiles at Sam; his hair cut seems to fit him. He does look a bit like a married man. The ring on his finger confirms this.

"Um, uh...how--how do I do this? Do I pay you after or before?"

The boy kinda feels bad for him. "We can do it after if you prefer. Let's talk prices."

"Oh, okay. How much for...?"

This needs to speed up a little. "Twenty for a handjob, Thirty for a blowjob, Fifty for anal and One Fifty for the entire thing."

The moonlight shines into the car, allowing Sam to she the man's blush touch upon his cheeks. He digs in the wallet for a fifty, handing it to the kid who stuffs the bill in his shoe for safe keeping. So, he pays up front. Okay. They exit the car and Sam leads the way. He pulls out his key for the room; 6. When he opens the door and turns on the lights, he notices that the bed is still slightly messy from when Benny viciously raped in it not even an hour ago. That man calls him irresistible, a sexual pleasure that can never be replaced by another man or woman. Goggles gets in last, shutting and locking the door behind him. That's an immediate red flag. The men that he fucks aren't supposed to do that, but Sam let's it slide.

"I've never done anything like this before." He admits. "You know, with a guy or a...a...yeah." He sticks out his hand. "I'm Richard by the way."

Well, that's new. At least he won't be referred to as Goggles anymore. He's so polite too. Sam takes his hand and shakes. "I'm Sam. It's nice to meet you Dick."

The man blushes at the nickname while Sam just smirks. "I, uh, yeah. Hi...Sam."

"So..." The experienced teenager saunters over to Richard, dropping his pants as he does so. He doesn't have any underwear on. "Do you wanna start now, or do you just wanna keep staring at me?"

Richard, though stunned by Sam's initiative, lets his sexual instincts kick in. The boy continues to remove the rest of his clothes, savoring the touch of another man. It's not loving, but it's comfortable. At least Richard isn't strangling him or demanding him to keep still while he rams his cock down his throat. At least it isn't that. Anything but that. Sam sinks down to his knees, unbuckling the man's pants. He didn't ask for this, though he's gonna give it to him anyways. He seems like a nice guy, probably isn't getting any from the wife at home. Even if it's wrong, Sam knows that this man needs this. He can give him this pleasure. It's a good deed that he's doing, or that's what he wants to think.

The guy's hard member springs free from it's confines, almost wacking the boy one the face. It's bigger than what he had imagined it to be. He's hung, but not by much. Richard has gotten like this just from the sight of his naked body. Without being prompted to, Sam takes it all in his mouth. He listens to Richard gasp, gripping his hair for balance as he's nearly stumbles. This is what he wants, so he'll give it to him. Unconsciously, he snaps his hips forward which makes Sam gag a little; the man's cock touches the back of his throat. Richard apologizes, but the boy tells him that he's okay. That he should just lay on the bed and relax so he can get this done. He still needs to fuck more guys. The money won't make itself.

Amazingly, this grown man listens to him, taking his pants all the way off. He leaves his baby blue dress shirt on, only opening the buttons for more breathing room. Richard lays back on the bed. His erection stands there, damp from Sam's saliva and dripping tiny droplets of precum. The teen goes to the nightstand drawer to pull out a small bottle of lubricant. There's condoms in there too; he grabs one of the larger ones. He returns to Richard and straddles his lap, expertly slipping on the protection. He's clean and suspects that this guy is as well, though he's just following Benny's rules. But then, in that instant, Sam decides to disobey his "master's" orders.

He tears the condom off in a flash, lubing up his entrance and Richard's hard tool at the same time. The nice man moans under him, squirming in great delecation. Mrs. Dick probably doesn't do anything this good for him. That must be why he's here after all. When Sam deems it well enough to continue, he lines up the man's cock with his hole, sinking down on it in one go. Both of them hitch their breaths. Sam more so than Richard. Even though he was plowed in this very bed a short time ago, he's still not quite used to having sex. There's always gonna be a burning sensation at first. Then the pleasure, though Benny barely gives him that. He just fucks him and dumps him. So, he focuses on Richard's satisfaction and not his own.

Sam bounces up and down on the married man's strong cock, trying his best to envision himself far away from here. He retreats into his mind, as he always does when doing this stuff. He plays games in his mind, like counting and remembering how many steps there are in his apartment building. Or the number of tiles on the kitchen floor. If you think about it, they aren't very imaginative games. They aren't really games period, but it helps take Sam's mind off of what's happening to his body. All too soon, Richard bucks his hips up, harshly grabbing the squishy globes of Sam's ass. He pants as a warm thickness shoots from his dick and into the boy's rectum.

It's over before it really even started. He doesn't blame him though. Like he said, it's his first time with a boy like him. He must've been nervous. Because he still feels a little sorry for the guy, Sam places a small peck on his parted lips, smiling when that sweet, innocent blush appears on Richard's features. He climbs off him, sitting on the bed cross-legged. The cum is dripping out of his ass and onto the sheets. He doesn't care. It's not his. He doesn't own anything but the brain in his skull. Soon enough, the family man gets up, pulling on his pants. He chuckles to himself when he misses a few buttons. Sam stands too, helping him out with that.

"There you go." He states as he stands there naked. The feeling of liquid running down his leg is familiar, yet still uncomfortable. "Good as new."

Richard buckles his belt up again, grabbing Sam's hand. "I...thank you." He digs in his wallet once again and pulls out a solid hundred dollar bill. "Take it."

This shocks the boy. "What are you doing?"

"You're not like how some of the guys at work said your type are. You're different I think. You take this. Think of it as a tip. Get a good meal or something. Maybe try to get out of this life. You have potential. I know that you think I'm doing this because the sex was good, but I'm not. I don't know you well, but I know that you didn't choose this because you wanted to."

No one's ever said anything like this to him since he started whoring his body out to strange men. This Richard man is a strange character. It's not like he's trying to save him. Sam takes the money, albeit skeptically, and briefly hugs the kind man. He offers the boy a ride back to the corner, but he declines, saying that the shower calls his name. Richard nods at him for what he thinks is the last time and leaves. After that, Sam goes to his shoe and puts the other bill in there. He'll continue working tonight, but he'll keep that fifty for himself. He's earned it. Benny can't keep controlling every aspect of his life. It's gotta stop eventually.

Sam walks into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He climbs in as he is and starts to lather the soap within his palms. When he was first introduced to sex by Rick, that's all he did: shower. He tried to scrub away the filth, both inside and outside. He was gentle--at first. He eased his way into it. Sam was, and still is despite not being there, scared of Rick. He was all smiles when his mom was around and alive. It all came tumbling down when he came home drunk one night after she passed away. His stepfather lumbered into his room as he was doing homework, mumbling about how that was boring and how he had a fun idea. He began touching Sam's legs, hands wandering around the exposed flesh. That's how it started. He should've killed Rick that night.

But he didn't. Sam couldn't. That's why he ran after the abuse escalated to something like the violent rapes that he's subjected to now. Rick also started involving his coworkers in their activities which was the final straw. When he's finished with the shower, he dries off using the towel on the towel rack. Benny left it there for him. Fuck him. He's a bastard. After getting dressed, Sam takes a look in the mirror before departing back into the lonely streets of the night. There's nothing for him anywhere. If he runs, Benny will find him. If he goes to the police, he'll be sent back to Rick with the possibility of Benny  _still_ following up on him.

It's a lose/lose situation no matter what he decides to choose. As Sam exits the motel room, he looks across the street to see a man staring directly at him. Not past him, or beside him, but  _right_ at him. It's like he can feel his eyes raking over every detail of his body. From what he can see, this man has on an all black outfit; his black trenchcoat flutters slightly in the wind. The atmosphere can only be described as dark and cold. It's not all that strange considering that it is in fact dark and cold out tonight. Sam turns to lock the door, back to the mysterious stranger. But when he looks back across the street, the man is nowhere to be found, almost like he disappeared into thin air. Thinking nothing of it, the young teen pockets the key and starts to head back to the corner he came from.

****

The walk isn't all that long, but it definitely isn't all that short either. It takes nearly twenty minutes to get there on foot. Sam wishes that he still had his phone so he could listen to music while walking. He had to sell it a while ago to buy food. His Sixteen and having to live like this all because he refuses to live with Rick. In all honesty, he'd rather die a thousand deaths than stay another minute in Rick's grasp. Dear God, that sounds like death enough. He wouldn't wish that punishment on his worst enemy. Sam knows that he's has to get away from this. He always wanted to go to London, but there's no way in Hell he'll get there any time soon.

When he rounds a corner a few blocks down, he see two guys. He knows who they are immediately. They're these two rich frat boys who paid him nicely before. Sam will never do what they want again. They're sick, but this path is the only way back. He walks with his head down, determined not to catch their attention. His efforts are futile though, as they recognize him in an instant. One of the guys grabs his arm, not tightly. He smiles and makes kissy faces at the boy with the other one just licks his lips. Ugh. It's disgusting and they're drunk too! They smell like a brewery. Sam tries to excuse himself, but the man's grasp on his arm becomes stronger.

"Hey, Sammy!" The douche with black hair says. That nickname died when his mother did. "You have a little time for some fun with us?"

Never again.

"I, uh," He stumbles with his words. "I can't. I...I filled my quota for the night. I was just headed home."

The blonde one scoffs, copping a feel on his ass and squeezing. "We could take you there. No problem at all."

"N--No. That's okay. Thanks though..."

Black begins touching him sensually too. "We'll pay you, of course. Just like last time. I know you appreciated the amount. Just let us do to you what we did last time. How bout that? Don't you like getting fucked?"

Finding courage that he didn't know he had, Sam breaks free from the two men in a desperate bid for escape. He doesn't get far, however, as they easily recapture him, guiding him into a dark alley. He cries out for someone to help him, but knows that no one will. Not in this neighborhood. Kicking and screaming don't seem to be doing anything for him; they restrain him, pulling off his shorts with difficulty. No. This can't be happening again! Why? Why him!? What did he ever do to deserve such harsh treatment!? Just when he thinks this, a miracle happens. Blondie, who was between his legs trying to gain entry, is thrown off of him by someone.

Sam can't really see in the dark, but he knows where his pants are. He pulls them up as he hears Black yelling at another person. He looks towards where the other guy is looking and sees the man from earlier standing there. He's angry looking. Most definitely. Why? Sam's a stupid little whore that's only good for getting guys off. There's nothing special about him. Blondie is on the ground crying, complaining about bleeding or something. Black is then picked up by his throat, feet dangling and gasping for air. Sam can't really make sense of what this is. The man in black turns to him--at least he thinks so--and speaks with a protective tone of voice.

"Get out of here, Sam! Now!"

And he does. He runs out of the alley without a seconds glance. He pretends not to hear the agonizing screams of the two men he left behind. Who was that strange man and how did he know his name? Was he sent by Benny? No, he couldn't have been because that bastard would've just let those guys take him for the fucking money. This man is probably just a stalker. At least he's a stalker that somewhat cares. Maybe. Sam doesn't know anything about him. He's never even seen him before tonight. When he gets to the end of the block, he stops in his tracks. There was a sound. Almost animalistic in nature. Like the roaring of a wolf or something similar coming from the alley. He keeps running.

****

An hour has already passed by. In that time, he's been rented out by five other guys. It's not surprising that they all wanted the last deal which is everything. Sam's been told that he's sexy or sinfully good looking by the older men that take him. He just doesn't see it for himself. Not anymore. His self-esteem is nonexistent at this point. He doesn't even remember if it was girls he was into before doing this awful job. And he still can't get the events from earlier out of his head. There's something familiar about that guy. Like news familiar. He could be the one responsible for the mysterious deaths in this neighborhood. It's possible.

After thirty minutes of standing up, Sam sits down on a nearby bench. It's almost time for him to go back home to be slapped around by Benny. He doesn't understand why he does that to him. Sam completely understands that Benny's the dominant male on their "relationship". So why? It's not like he's going to leave, even if he's secretly plotting to. Is it to make a point? That he's a manipulative, abusive, brute with zero self control? Yeah, that's what he is alright. No doubts about that. And to think he hid it so well before. Benny is a fucking psychopath that needs to be kept in a metal cage.

Soon, Sam is startled when he sees an all black car pull up near him. The person inside honks once, beckoning him to come forward. He obliges, using the bench as support to lift himself up. The window rolls down and Sam notices a beautiful pair of sea green eyes. This man's hair is short and kinda blondish brown. His outfit...it's the same as the one the guy in the alley wore. For the second time tonight, a red flag is shown in his mind. Sam can tell that this guy is having some sort of internal dilemma. Green Eyes smiles at him, though it looks a bit forced. Almost as if he hasn't smiled in ages.

"Good Evening." He says it so clear, but his voice is gravelly. Just a tiny bit. "Are you free as of right now?"

"I am." Sam doesn't know why he said that. He's supposed to go home soon. "Do you require my services?"

Green Eyes smiles, genuinely this time. "Something of the sort. Would you like to join me?"

This guy's speech is so...different. He talks funny. Like he's from another point in time or whatever. Yet, even though he's just the slightest apprehensive, Sam throws some caution to the wind and hops into the car with the mystery man. The guy drives away then with Sam looking out the window. He knows who this man is. He watched him from across the street and saved him from those rich frat boys. He's still trying to figure out what he wants. Well, it's kind of obvious, isn't it? Otherwise, he wouldn't have even dared to pick him up from that corner. It dawns on Sam soon that they aren't going to the motel or any of his usual spots.

"Where are we going?" He asks.

"Somewhere nice. Don't worry. I'm not going to harm you. I don't think I even have it in me to achieve such a terrible act."

Wow. A gentleman. Those don't really exist where he comes from. But where does this handsome stranger come from? Probably from a rich, refined family or something like that. It doesn't bother Sam. A client is a client. He and his family were middle class. His mother did leave him some money, but Rick took over everything. He spent it all on booze and other stupid shit. As he zones out, Green Eyes touches his knee, gaining his attention. He keeps his eyes on the road; Sam notes mentally that they're on the highway to the rich and well-to-do part of the city. What is this? Does he wanna fuck a dirty slut in his clean bedroom? Oh well. It's his choice.

"In case you were wondering, my name is Dean. Dean Winchester."

"I'm Sam." The boy says automatically. He knows that Dean already knows his name. "I don't usually talk with strangers like this."

"Well," Dean licks his lips very slightly, tongue peering out. "Now we're not strangers anymore. Now that we know each other's names."

"That's fair...I suppose. Where are we going again?"

Dean grins. "You'll see soon."

****

This part of the city is really grand indeed. The skyscrapers literally look like they're touching the sky. There are many men and women in fancy cars and walking around in nice clothes. Dean leads them through mild traffic until he stops the car in front of a fancy clothing store. The green eyed man exits the car first, coming around the other side to open Sam's door. He extends his hand forward for the kid to take. He does. This is nice and all, but what are they doing here? Before he could even ask out loud, Dean huffs out a small laugh. He leads Sam to the front of the door, keys in hand.

"I own this establishment, Sam." He informs as he unlocks the door. "I own a multitude of businesses around this city."

Dean turns on the lights to the store. He shuts the door and puts down the shutters in case of prying eyes apparently. The inside,of the building is as it looks on the outside: extravagant. There are many men's clothes scattered around on the racks and on the walls and display. Tuxedos, dress shirts and pants as well as other clothing items. Sam stands as still as a board when Dean's hand touches the small of his back, guiding him towards the smaller men's section. Wait, what? What's happening? 

"Take your pick. I'll pay for it all. I'd like to take you out to dinner, if that's something that you would enjoy?"

He tries so hard not to question the weird kindness that's coming from Dean, but he wants to know. However, now isn't really the time. He's being treated nice, so he's gonna keep advantage of it like this man wants him to. Sam grabs a few outfits and accessories for himself and goes to the fitting rooms with Dean silently trailing behind him. He doesn't go in with him, being the gentleman that he is. Sam strip out of his disgusting clothes, tossing them in the trashcan in the dressing room. He tries on a few things, feeling bad that he's keeping Dean waiting. Soon, he exits the room. The look on the man's face tells Sam all he needs to know: He looks amazing, or at the very least good.

The black jeans are slim fitted and give him a lot of breathing room. He's got on a grey v-neck shirt with a black cardigan over it. Before going in, snagged a pair of black shoes that are precisely his size. Sam took and put on a few necklaces and bracelets, confident that what he picked out wouldn't cost too much. As if sensing his thoughts, Dean chuckles, leaning on a rack of business suit jackets. In this light, Sam takes a look at what he's wearing. He still has that trenchcoat on, but his clothes resemble something like what a professional businessman would wear. He makes it all look good.

"Impressive taste." Dean hums. "You look stunning. That will set me back almost $6,000."

Sam almost chokes on his saliva. "What!? Oh, I--I'm sorry. I'll take it off and get something else--"

"Don't." He interrupts, kissing Sam on the cheek. "I told you that I would pay for anything you pick out. I constantly have money flowing in. I can afford everything in this room, Sam. Including you. But I'd never purchase you. That would be inhumane." He checks his watch. "We must be going soon. If you'd like to quickly grab other things, then you can."

Who the hell is this Dean Winchester person?

****

He did grab a few more sets of outfits for himself. After the night is over, Benny will ask him about the clothes and where he got them from. He'll be truthful, saying that a kind stranger paid for them. Sam will most likely be beaten for that answer. That's the cold truth of their relationship. He and Dean left the store not long after getting the clothes; he put them in the trunk for later. The blonde drives further down the street, explaining that he also owns the restaurant that they'll be eating at. There's so many questions that need to be asked, but he can't seem to open up his mouth.

They get to the beautifully decorated, beautifully designed establishment in no time flat. There's even valet parking. Just how much money does Dean have? Sam is led out of the car by the charming man and into the building. The waiter welcomes them, taking them to the best seat of the place that's reserved only for Dean. He pulls out the chair for Sam before seating himself across from him. The menu looks weird; so many dishes that he's never even heard of. Dean ends up ordering for him, promising that the dish will taste amazing. There's wine at the table, but Sam chooses to drink water instead.

"Do you like this place, Sam?" Dean questions over his glass.

The boy nods. "Yes, I do. What do you do? You know, for work."

"I told you. I run and maintain numerous businesses such as this one."

"Right...but how? I mean, I just--never mind. You don't need to answer if you don't want to. You're the guy paying for everything."

Dean does that sexy chuckle again. "No, no. It's quite alright. Let's see. I...took over the businesses from the men and women who had them before me. They were good friends of mine, you see. We've known each other for many long years. I'm the only one of us left. I took over for them."

Because he's curious, Sam asks. "What happened to your friends?"

This seems to have a reaction within Dean. His jaw twitches. "They were slaughtered by a group of very ignorant, hateful men. They were brought to justice though."

"They're in prison?"

"No...they aren't."

Oh.

Sam's heart beats faster. What exactly is Dean implying right now? If they aren't locked away, then where are they? That only leaves one other explanation. It's a gruesome one that Sam doesn't dare say out loud. Eventually, the food arrives and it looks delicious. Dean wasn't lying when he said that it would be. It seems that he hasn't lied yet. But how would he even know? He's still a mystery. A code that he can't decipher by any means. This man, this handsome, seductive being sitting across from him is something else. Sam doesn't miss the way his eyes twinkle up every time he catches Dean staring, or the longer than usual touches.

He's an enigma. A shadow amongst shadows. As Sam digs into his meal, he blushes. He can feel Dean's eyes on him like it's a physical presence. It's like they're caressing his his skin, feeling on every curve of his body. He wants this man to get whatever it is over with so he can go home. He hates it when his clients draw out the inevitable. Either they fuck him, or they don't. But if they don't, he won't get the money he nerds and if he doesn't get the money, Benny will find worse ways to break him. His life is screwed up to the point of no return. If he could turn back time, he'd make it so that his mother wasn't walking home the night she died. Maybe then she wouldn't have gotten hit by that drunk man. Or maybe he'd erase Rick from the timeline altogether.

Dean clears his throat. He didn't eat anything. Weird. "Tell me about yourself, Sam. About what you like to do."

"I don't-- _can't_ \--do anything." Sam's response is sullen, yet truthful. "I'm not allowed to do anything. Just go to work and come home and..."

He doesn't say the last part aloud, but Dean understands. "Why are you doing this? Why do you allow yourself to be used by the strange men?"

"I don't.. have a choice."

The blonde looks him in the eyes. "Everyone has a choice. Just like how I chose to take you here. Now, how about we leave this place, hmm? I want to show you something."

Sam doesn't say no.

****

They drive for ten minutes until Dean goes into an underground parking lot under another skyscraper. As usual, he exits first and opens the door for Sam. He has manners unlike any man he's ever come across. The pair get into an elevator with Dean inputting a four digit code onto the keypad. The elevator springs to life, carrying them up and up and up. During the ride, the blonde stands as close to the boy as possible. Apparently he's never heard of personal space, but Sam's strangely okay with that. He hears Dean sniffle; he doesn't think nothing of it. Men usually smell him all the time. Soon, the doors open up and reveal a huge penthouse.

Just by looking at it, he sees that it's bigger than the apartment he shares with Benny. Correction: Benny's apartment that he shares with  _him_. He doesn't own anything. Maybe one thing. Sam leaves the elevator first, wandering around the massive home without permission. For some reason, he already knows that Dean doesn't mind it. The entrance is more like a huge lobby or ballroom. He looks through one of the archways to see the kitchen through it. Next to him is a spiral staircase. Everything in this house is--

"Magnificent." Dean grins, coming to stand near Sam in the middle of the room.

"It is." The boy agrees.

"You speak of my house, but I speak of you, Sam."

That blush on Sam's face comes back full force. Dean just has that effect on him. Is it good or bad? He can't say. Soon, the rich man takes his hand, turning to face him. He notices that Dean has a small remote in his hand. He clicks a button on it once and music fills the air. The sound comes from the huge stereo system near the grand piano off to the side. Sam recognizes that the man singing is Frank Sinatra. He looks up at Dean, shaking his head. Is this guy for real? He can't be. Men like him can't possibly exist. He places his hand on the boy's hip, getting into a dancing position.

"May I have this dance?"

Once again, Sam doesn't say no. Soon, he's dancing with Dean, feet gliding across the floor. He hasn't danced like this since his mother's wedding with Rick a few years ago during the mother son dance. The memories are still fresh in his head. They will be forever. He can't ever forget her face. She was loved so much by him. Rick never loved her. He probably married her for Sam. He stops thinking of the past and looks to the future, to the man who is literally sweeping him off his feet. It might be the light, but Dean looks like he's glowing; his eyes are brighter, the color more prominent. He just allows himself to be twirled aound as the music continues to play.

_Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars._

_In other words, hold my hand. In other words, Baby, kiss me._

_Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore._

_In other words, please be true. In other words, I Love You._

During the instrumental portion of the song, Dean pulls him close, spinning them around in fast and fluid movements. His footwork is so fast that Sam just bearly keeps up with him. He keeps his hand on Dean's shoulder as they move, taking the time to think about what he's doing. He shouldn't be here. He doesn't belong with him, in his world. There's more though. Even though they just recently met, this has to be the happiest he's ever been in a long time. This man ignites a fire inside of him. What is this feeling? Is it what he thinks it is? Is this...is this what love feels like?

"You look nervous." Dean notes.

"I am."

"I see no reason why you should be. I won't hurt you."

"But why...?"

He looks at him, presumably debating on whether or not to say what's on his mind. Finally, he does. "Because I've fallen in love with you, Sam."

When he kisses him, the music finishes.

_Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore._

_In other words, please be true. In other words, In other words..._

_I Love...You._

****

Dean carted him up the staircase after the song was over, kissing him madly. By the time the make it to the bedroom, they're both naked and wanting more. He delicately lays the young boy on the bed, going to kiss his chest and past his navel. He puts Sam's erection into his mouth, tongue swirling about. Dean's very talented at this it seems. The teen grips the sheets tight. No one had ever cared about his satisfaction before, just their own. It's either forgot or slipped over. Not this time. It feels like Heaven, like he's on cloud 9. This hasn't happened to him before. There's so much pleasure just from a blowjob. That's why those men love it so much.

The intensity of the act is too much. He warns Dean that he's about cum, but the guy doesn't care. He spills his seed down his throat. The blonde swallows it all down, locking eyes with Sam as he does so. He keeps sucking even after his orgasm, driving the kid to the edge. It stops soon, leaving him panting, gasping. Dean comes back up, slotting in between his legs again. His erection rubs against Sam's thigh in a lewd fashion. He wants release too. He presses kisses to the kid's neck, biting just a tiny bit. His teeth scrape the skin a little. Odd. His teeth didn't look that sharp before. Oh well. He isn't going to complain. It feels good.

"I'm sorry." He apologies in reference to ejaculating earlier than anticipated. "No one has ever--It's been a while..."

"Never apologize to me, Sammy." Dean says his nickname. It feels right coming from his lips. "You have nothing to apologize for. You've been caged for so long. It's time to be free. I can help you. Let me pleasure you. Let me be yours, as you can become mine in the process."

Suddenly, Sam's resolve breaks. He kisses Dean with newfound passion. He's decided what he wants to do. He wants to spend his life with this man who so quickly wormed his way into his heart. Yes, he was skeptical about him at first, but not anymore. He's in love and while it seems like a spur of the moment type deal, it isn't. He feels like he's known him for more than a couple of hours. It feels like decades, centuries. It's strange, but those are his feelings. Something about Dean makes Sam want to do things outside of his comfort zone, like talking to other people; he was always a bit shy. In the end, he stops kissing the handsome beast above him, bracketing his face in his hands. That's when he confesses.

"I love you too, Dean."

****

He made love to the boy that hour, showing him what it's liked to receive love instead of selling it on a constant basis. As expected, Dean made him feel good. No, not good. He made him feel amazing. It was on another level, a whole other spectrum! No one showed his body just tender loving or care. Rick--No! No more Rick and no more Benny. It's not about them anymore! It's all about Dean Winchester, the mysterious man who caused him to fall in love. It parallels slightly to his life with Benny, though it's way different. He feels it. He feels the love when Dean says that he loves him. There's nothing else there but love. No more fear. Maybe some, but not a lot.

Sam lays his head on Dean's chest. His heartbeat...it sounds distant. "I have nothing to go back to."

"Which is why I want you to stay. With me. I can give you everything that you desire. Before I saw you, I wanted to...well, that doesn't matter anymore."

Wanted to what? Kill him? Rape him? He knows next to nothing about Dean so it's possible that he was planning on killing him when he first saw him. With these killings happening to local clients and pimps and whores, that incident in the alley couldn't have been a coincidence. He hasn't admitted it yet, but Sam knows who he really is. Dean murdered those men tonight, just like he killed those other people too. The boy sits up, looking at his new lover, eyes searching for the truth. He wants to know. He needs to know so that he can trust him. Dean sits up too. He looks prepared to answer the question that knows is coming.

"Are you the killer?"

Dean's lips twitch. He then nods. "I am. I won't lie to you. I killed those people in the past few days. I had to."

He won't question it further. Sam also nods, kissing Dean on the lips. "Okay. I...won't ask. Not now at least. But I need your help."

****

There's always a feeling of dread when Sam sees Benny's apartment building. He can see it from down here. The lights are all off. He's either not home and out looking for him, or he's home sleeping, exhausted after searching for his whore. Not anymore. Sam refuses to be Benny's personal plaything any longer. Dean drove them back to the neighborhood he lives in under the boy's instructions. The nicely dressed man still doesn't quite understand why they're here as Sam hasn't given him an explanation. He exits the car, telling him that he'll be back soon. Dean protests for a second, but that's before the young man kisses his cheek.

The building isn't that huge, but it has ten floors. Thankfully, he lives up on the third floor. He bounds up the stairs two at a time, expensive shoes echoing in the halls. If any of the neighbors see how he's dressed, they'll try to take his clothes and sell them on the streets for drugs or money or both. Soon, he gets to the front door. Benny never gave him a key, allowing him to use the spare key under the welcome matt. How bad is that? Sam quietly unlocks the door, throwing the key down the hall in frustration. Feels kinda good to lash out. He sneaks in, silently closing the door behind him.

Inside, the living room is clean. Small, but clean. Benny forces Sam to do the laundry and all of the other mundane chores around the house. He's more of a slave than anything else. He sinks around the apartment in the dark; he memorized where every object lays. The boy makes it to the master bedroom. Thankfully, no one's in here. Benny or otherwise. He brings home random people sometimes and makes Sam watch as he fucks them. Never more. He gets to the dressed near the window. Before opening the drawer, he looks out, gazing down at Dean's parked car. He's still in there. Good. Sam digs through the dresser, tossing out the skimpy clothing he was forced to wear. He keeps searching until he finds what he's looking for. 

It's a picture of Sam and his mother, just days before her untimely demise. She died young. She was beautiful, way too good for Rick by a long shot. In the picture, they're smiling, cheeks pushed together and grinning. The edge of the picture has been cut by him. It had Rick's face in it. He doesn't need to be reminded of him in the only possession that he owns. The teen folds the object and slips it in his back pocket, happy that the deed is done. This is what he came for. Very suddenly, the bedroom light turns in. Sam freezes, but quickly turns around. There's Benny, clearly angry. His nostrils are flaring, but there's a confused look in his eyes. Probably because of what the boy has on. He clenches his fists, shaking.

"Where were you." Benny says in a calm tone. "I checked everywhere for you, you know. The other boys said that some guy in a black car took you away. And what the hell is this!? You letting some nobody take you out and buy you shit!? Have you lost your fucking mind!?"

Sam flinches as his the man's voice spikes. "I--I'm sorry! I--He took me around t--town and showed me nice things. He's sweet to me."

Benny closes the distance between them to viciously backhand the kid. "You don't talk to those men, you hear me!? You know that you only spread your legs and nothing else! Now take that shit off and you give me the money you got tonight. Fucking bitch..."

"No..." He whimpers on the floor.

"No...?" This makes the man even more furious than he already is. "I'm sorry, but did you just say no to me? Who the fuck do you think you are!?" He swings his foot out and it connects to Sam's stomach. "You meet some fucking rich guy and suddenly you start becoming disobedient? What, is he filling your head with lies with dumb fantasies of a better life!? Wake up! I'm the only one who will treat you this good! No one will ever give you the time of day!"

Sam shrieks then. "Dean! Dean, please help me!"

"Aww! You gonna call for 'Dean'?" Benny mocks him. "That's his name?" He pulls out his gun and points it at Sam's head. "Call him if you want. He's not gonna save you. I told you to get your act together a while ago, bitch. Now I gotta punish you."

"Put the gun down."

The boy looks up to see Dean standing in the doorway. His trenchcoat is off, showing his charcoal colored dress shirt; the sleeve ate rolled up. How'd he get here so fast? Did he fly up here or something. There are things that Sam has seen or heard tonight that don't really make sense. For now, he's just relieved that his black knight in shining armor is here to help him. However, Benny turns the gun on him, snarling like an animal. If he treats him like shit, why does he care what happens to him and who he chooses to sleep with? He was a prostitute! It doesn't matter now. Sam's scared for Dean's life at this moment. He doesn't want to watch someone he loves die.

Benny scoffs. "You must be Dean. You think you can just come in my apartment and turn my fucking bitch against me!? I don't think so. You need to get the hell outta here."

Dean keeps his hands at his sides, unbothered by the pistol pointed at him. "Mr. Lafitte, I implore you to put away the gun."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull the trigger!"

"Because you'd regret it immensely. It doesn't have to end this way. No one needs to get hurt. Let him leave. I don't want Sam to see what happens...to you."

"To me?" He chuckles. "Right. See you in Hell, motherfucker."

Sam doesn't get the chance to even scream out as he hears two shots being fired from Benny's gun. He closes his eyes tightly, awaiting the hard thud of Dean's body. When he doesn't hear it, he becomes concerned. When he reopens his eyes, he witnesses a very horrifying sight. Not only is Dean alive and well, but the bullets slowly push themselves out of his chest. They hit the carpet soon after. That's when the changes happen. Four teeth sharpen and extend, parallel to each side. His eyes flash a light shade of blood red. Dean lunges forward, attacking Benny's neck.

He literally sinks his teeth down into him, staring at Sam the entire time. The evil bastard screams in pain, trying and failing to get away. This can't be real! This isn't real! He's frozen on the spot, unable to move. As if sensing the distress from the boy, Dean stops, going behind Benny to brutally snap his neck. There are no words to describe what Sam's feeling right now. Maybe fear? But he's not fearing for his own life here. Dean uses one of the boy's discarded shirts to wipe the blood from his mouth. They stare at each other, both of them not saying a word until he starts to ask him a question. A question that he knows the answer to. It all makes sense.

"What are you?" Sam whispers.

Dean smirks, unintentionally flashing his abnormally white teeth. "I'm something less than you, yet so much more."

"You're a vampire." It isn't a question.

"My kind are called many things, but yes. That is one of them." He admits. "I hope that this doesn't change anything between us. I don't know what I would do if I...if I lost you so soon."

"I'm not afraid of you if that's what you're worried about. I guess that I'm scared of what you can do more than anything. I know that you won't hurt me intentionally." He's being way too calm about this. Maybe he'll freak out later. Then, he asks because he needs to know. "Are you going to turn me?"

"That is entirely up to you, not me. I'd love you alive and even in undeath. I won't turn you unless you absolutely want me too. I want you to have a choice as I never did."

Sam manages to smile despite the circumstances. "Didn't you say that everyone has a choice earlier?"

The supernatural creature of the night says nothing more on the matter. He only grins and leads them out of the building down to the street below. They enter the car as sirens sound away in the distance. Dean drives off without a second glance, heading back to his home. _Their_ home. Sam thinks that he can live with this slight abnormality in his lover's behavior. It's not like he's gonna chop him up into tiny little pieces and eat him. But yeah, it's not a big deal. Dating a vampire. He's actually being delusional if he thinks that it's not a big deal. It's a life changing decision.

He thinks of the vampiric lore. The sun, the cross, the garlic. He has to ask Dean about this sometime. It can wait, but the story of his friends make sense now. They were probably murdered by Vampire Hunters. Dean said they were ignorant men. He said it with such disdain. If there are people out there that want to hurt him, then Sam's staying by his side to protect him. He doesn't have any skills to protect himself--he's not even a vampire--but he'll do what he can...because that's what you do when you love someone with all your heart. Dean reaches over and grabs his hand while still looking ahead, fingers fitting together like pieces to a puzzle.

Suddenly, Sam's not so nervous anymore.

****

It's after midnight right now and nothing. No calls from the police or anything regarding Sam's whereabouts. It's not like Rick cares. He just has to pretend that he does so as to not seem like a complete asshole. He honestly does miss the kid though. Misses his tight heat more. He was so responsive, but then he had to fucking leave when the shit was getting good. Oh, whatever. He'll come back eventually. Sam isn't cut out to make it in the outside world. That little shit is too fragile. No doubt that he's probably turning tricks for a hot meal. At least he's getting paid for what he does best.

Rick throws the empty beer bottle at the wall, grunting in obvious frustration. He has squandered Sam's inheritance and has no money of his own. This is a low point, even for him. Shouldn't have spent it all on hookers and beer and cocaine. Now he takes up odd jobs to support his filthy habits. Fuck. Just as the drunkard gets up for another bottle, the doorbell rings. Who the fuck is it at this hour? Rick doesn't bother looking through the peephole to see who it is, just swinging it open. There's a man with Sam, dressed all in black. He looks rich, but more importantly, the little fucker is back! He looks nice, surprisingly. Well dressed too; those clothes look expensive.

"Sammy?" He queries. He's slurring his speech a little. "Is that you? You little bitch, you had me worried."

Sam frowns. "I want my mom's stuff back. Everything."

"What's that? Your mother's shit? Boy, I had to live off of something. I don't have a job anymore. Not since after you fucking ran out on me. I sold all her stuff. Everything. You coming home or not? I'm kinda horny..."

There's a pained expression on his face, but Sam drops it. It's replaced with something else that Rick can't figure out in his inebriated state. The boy soon nods to his companion who only nods back. All too quickly, Rick is pushed back inside of the house with the force of an elephant. He ends up on his back, panting heavily. The wind was knocked out of him. He's left staring up at the ceiling until Sam's mysterious man comes into view. The teen's voice is heard, but he's not seen. The man puts his foot on Rick's chest to prevent him from getting up. What's going on? What's this bullshit!?

"Dean, I think it's a good time for you to feed. You need your strength."

Rick screams in terror as this Dean fellow's face shifts into something nightmarish and unholy. Piercing red eyes are the last thing he sees...

**Author's Note:**

> Well...? :)


End file.
